


A Free Man

by RosieRivendell



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9307397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieRivendell/pseuds/RosieRivendell
Summary: 'Go,' says Judge Anderson. 'Get out of here.'And Techie does, runs as fast as his ungainly legs will take him. Mama's thugs could be anywhere though, waiting to kill those who flee. He's only saved from certain death at the last minute, by an unfamiliar man with a shock of blonde curly hair and big ugly glasses.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My take on what happens to Techie after the Dredd film finishes. For those who haven't seen the film, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttR0AXADH0E) clip is where the story picks up from. 
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://rosierivendell.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Heads up: mentions of noncon, and alcohol consumption.

Techie runs as fast as he can away from Mama’s quarters, which is not very fast. He’s not used to moving at speed and he most certainly doesn’t exercise. Instead, he spends most of his days sitting on his ass on the lumpy old desk chair at the security monitoring station. So he’s all soft and weak, and a bit pudgy in places, not built for running, and certainly not fighting. Not like the men Mama employs as security. Big beefy men who like to hit, and slice, and fight.

 

Men that Techie knows could be lurking around any corner. He's only just made it out of Mama's area at the very top of the Peach Trees building, he's running now through the residential area, long grey concrete corridors lined with doors. 

 

He thinks the two judges probably killed most of Mama’s thugs, but he couldn’t be sure. They may have just incapacitated them, or barged through them. Mama’s reach is huge, an army of hundreds. Surely two judges couldn’t kill them all?

 

Because her men would surely kill him if they saw him running. Mama’s men had always picked on Techie, teasing him, laughing at him. Sometimes shoving him, stealing his food, making him do awful and embarrassing things like lick their boots. One time, a group of them pushed him into a corner and pissed on him. Techie hadn’t been able to get the smell out of his clothes for days.

 

So he has no doubt that if these men that seem to hate him saw him now, they’d shoot him before he even realises what’s happening. And Techie’s not ready to die. Not yet. Not now that he’s free of Mama and all the violence, and abuse, and threats. Even though he has nowhere to run to, surely he can survive… somewhere?

 

His footfalls make too much noise as he shuffles down the dirty grey corridor, but he can’t help it, can’t help the stiff, ungainly way his legs move. All of a sudden, he hears footsteps coming towards him. A group of men, by the sounds of it. Running. Techie jumps behind a concrete column, gripped with fear, blood pumping in his ears. He tries to gasp down air, but his breaths seem to come in wheezes instead. They’ll see him as soon as they run past him. They’re getting closer, he can hear their jeers and calls, ‘I’m gonna fuck those judges up so bad.’ ‘I heard one’s a girl -- she won’t be so pretty after I’m done with her.’

 

Techie’s heart almost stops completely when the door next to his hiding spot opens. An unfamiliar man with a shock of blonde curly hair and big ugly glasses looks out at him.

 

‘What are you doing out here? Don’t you know it’s a lockdown? You’d better get inside before you get shot,’ the man hisses at Techie. Techie’s stunned to the spot, so he just opens and closes his mouth like an idiot. He doesn’t look like he wants to kill Techie, but Techie’s learnt not to trust anyone when it comes to appearances.

 

‘Come on,’ the man insists, opening the door wider. Techie’s not sure he can trust this stranger who, in the two sentences he’s spoken, has been nicer and more generous than anyone has ever been to Techie. This man is offering him asylum, safety from Mama’s men, at risk of his own.

 

The men are coming closer, he can see their long shadows on the floor next to him. So he leaps inside the stranger’s flat, the blonde man shutting the door behind him with a _slam._

 

Techie’s not quite prepared to turn his back on the stranger, so he stares at him in the dim entrance, panting breathlessly. The man is very strong looking, big arms visible in his short sleeved top, and a bit taller than Techie. He still needs to be wary then. The man looks down at him through his glasses, dark eyes magnified by his lenses.

 

‘You could probably thank me, you know. I just saved your ass from those guys,’ the stranger says, turning suddenly to go into the living area.

 

‘T-thank you,’ Techie says. The stranger seems to trust him enough to turn his back on Techie. Probably because he knows he could brush off any feeble blow Techie could lay on him.

 

‘What’s you name?’ the man calls from the living area. Techie follows the voice, tentatively, as though Mama’s men might be lurking behind the tiny, worn out couch, ready to jump out at him. It’s actually just one big room, the kitchen, eating table, and lounge. The flat is small, and dingy, and dark, but Techie likes it. He likes the dark, it’s much nicer on his eyes. He could hardly imagine how nice it would be to have his own space, his own flat, where he could sleep in a real bed, without worrying that he would wake with a knife pressed to his stomach.

 

‘T- Techie,’ he replies, approaching the middle of the room, near the beat up sofa. The man is in the little kitchen pouring water into an old rusty kettle. He lights the stove, hissing as the match comes a little too close to his fingers.

 

‘Interesting name,’ the man comments, pulling two chipped mugs from a doorless cupboard.

 

‘It’s not, uh, my real name. I mean, I don’t know. What it is. But I get called Techie.’ Techie stammers, feeling stupid.

 

‘Matt,’ the man in the kitchen says. That’s his name, Techie realises. He should have asked himself. He hopes the man isn’t angry that he didn’t.

 

The man walks over to the sofa where Techie is hovering, too scared to sit down.

 

‘You can sit, if you want,’ says Matt, placing the two mugs, now full of a steaming brown liquid on the low, worn coffee table. Techie can see it’s been patched with an old wooden fruit crate, one leg held up with books.

 

Techie waits until Matt lowers himself onto the couch, before sitting down himself, as far down the other end of the little couch as he can. Matt cups the hot drink in both huge hands, blowing onto the steaming surface. He looks over at Techie, and startles slightly. Techie knows why; it’s a normal response to noticing his eyes.

 

'Woah, your eyes. Are you a mutant?' Matt says, leaning close to Techie. Techie wants to run, Matt is getting dangerously close, but he can’t, he’s rooted to the spot.

 

'No, no, they're-- they're not mine.' Mutants are ostracised in Mega-City One and Techie doesn’t need another reason to be a target.

 

‘Oh. Sure,’ Matt says, pulling back away from Techie, to blow again on his drink. He seems to have taken Techie’s vague explanation well. ‘They look like they’re hurting; do you want some eye drops or something?’

 

‘N-no thanks. Nothing really works, um. It’s fine.’ Techie twists his fingers in his top. His eyes do hurt, Matt’s right, but he’s tried shit loads of creams and drops, and most of the time they just make things worse. It’s nice of Matt to offer though.

 

‘So why aren’t you in your own flat? Surely you knew there was a lockdown.’ Matt asks, taking a tentative sip of the brown liquid.

 

‘I--’ Techie doesn’t know if he should tell Matt where he’s from, because he might throw him out. But he’s already been so kind, that he probably deserves to know the truth, especially since if the judges don’t manage to kill Mama, she’ll come looking for him. She’d kill Matt too, if she found him here.

 

‘I-- I don’t have a flat. I worked for Mama. I was her security technician. But the judges, they came and-- and-- well, I think the girl one read my mind or something, because I thought she was going to kill me, but she just-- she just told me to go. I think the judges are going to kill Mama.’ Techie realises he’s babbling, his voice going high pitched and stuttery.

 

Matt doesn’t look scared, or worried that Techie might lead Mama straight to him. ‘Wow,’ he says. ‘You don’t look like one of Mama’s thugs. Except for-- well--’ he gestures to Techie’s neck, to his blurry clan tattoo. Techie raises his hand, covers it instinctively. The skin is raised from when it got infected soon after he got it, from the disgusting dirty needles Mama had used. He hates it, hates that Mama will always be on his skin for the rest of his life, to remind him of all the violence, and fear, and blood that had permeated his existence. The one on his face is just as bad, but that was put there by the slave trafficker, and not Mama.

 

‘Do you not like coffee?’ Matt asks all of a sudden, drawing Techie’s thoughts away from the past. He nods at the mug on the coffee table. ‘I put sugar and milk in, I thought you looked like you needed it.’

 

Techie’s never had coffee before, doesn’t know if he likes it, but would never tell Matt that. He picks up the mug, noticing that it looks like Matt gave him the nicer, slightly less chipped mug, with an intact handle. It’s still very hot, but Techie forces himself to have a sip. It burns his tongue, and it’s a very strong flavour that Techie’s not sure he likes. But the sugary after taste is nice. He tries to force a small smile as he places the coffee back on the table.

 

‘So do you-- have anywhere to go? Family?’ Matt asks.

 

Techie shakes his head. He doesn’t think he’s ever spoken to another person conversationally like this before. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to know about him, and not just what he could do for them.

 

‘No-- I. I was Mama’s slave. She bought me. I don’t really know--’ Techie cuts off. _Don’t know where I’m going, what I’m doing, where I’m going to sleep, or when my next meal will be, or if I even have any family…_

 

‘Shit, man,’ says Matt. ‘That’s awful. I’m sorry. Look, if you need anything… You seem too nice to deserve that kind of shit. Hell, you can stay here if you need.’

 

Techie thinks he might combust. It’s the first time someone’s ever acknowledged that he doesn’t deserve to live like this. _Like that,_ he corrects. He’s not Mama’s slave anymore - as long as the Judges do their job. But Matt is-- he’s offering help.

 

He doesn’t understand. People are not like this, they are not generous, or kind, or selfless. People are scary, and cruel, and they do not offer anything without some sort of payment.

 

‘Hey, man, are you alright? You’re kind of-- shaking…’ Matt says, leaning in again.

 

‘Why are you being so nice?’ Techie whispers, his voice hoarser than he had intended. ‘I can’t-- I can’t give you anything in return.’ Maybe he does. Maybe Matt likes men, maybe he thinks Techie will sleep with him if he helps him. Maybe he’ll do it anyway, force himself on him like he used to watch Mama’s men do to defenceless women. Sometimes men too, but that would be in private rooms, but Techie could still see them on his monitor, see how they tied them up and…

 

They’d kill them in the end. They always did. Techie wonders if Matt would kill him too.

 

‘What--? I, I just. I just want to help. If you haven’t got anywhere to go, I could never kick you out. I know what it’s like to-- to not really have anything.’

 

‘I--’ Techie starts, but all of a sudden there is a thunderous noise of metal on metal. The window shields peeling back. The light makes Techie squint, before his eyes adjust with a _click_. The lockdown is over. Then; a voice over the intercom: ‘Mama is dead. The lockdown is over. Stay in your homes while the Hall of Justice undertakes clean up.’

 

Then silence. Matt and Techie stare at each other.

 

‘Mama’s dead,’ Techie whispers. He’s not even sure if he feels happy. It just feels… final. It’s over.

 

Matt gives him a big smile, showing too many crooked teeth. ‘You’re a free man!’ He says, standing up. He’s right, Techie thinks. I am free.

 

‘This deserves a celebration! Do you want a beer? Seeing so you didn’t like the coffee,’ he gives Techie a smirk.

 

‘I- I’m sorry, I just--,’ Techie reaches forward for the coffee, prepared to scull it in one go, so as to not offend Matt.

 

‘Chill, man, it’s fine. Did you want a beer?’ He gathers his and Techie’s mugs, taking them into the kitchen.

 

‘I, uh-- yeah, please.’ Techie might never have had coffee, but he has had beer. Not often, only a few times, but enough to know he likes it.

 

Matt brings over two green bottles, ice cold, with condensation running from them onto the table. He’s taken the liberty of removing the caps. Techie lifts his from the table, but before he can drink any, Matt is raising his bottle towards Techie. He’s not quite sure what he wants, does he want Techie to take the bottle…? Oh, wait. He’s seen this before. He clinks the neck of his bottle to Matt’s after not too long of an awkward pause.

 

‘To freedom,’ Matt smiles, before taking a long gulp of his beer. Techie watches his prominent adam’s apple bobs as the liquid streams down his throat. Techie, in turn takes a little sip. It’s quite dry, but it is ice cold, and he quite likes the tang and the bubbles.

 

The first beer goes quite quickly, and Matt grabs them two more before Techie has time to realise. They talk about Matt’s job; he’s a technician like Techie, but he does radars instead. Techie has no idea how a radar works, and Matt explains it to him. It sounds dangerous, up there on the top of towers, Matt has to wear a harness to keep him safe. Matt’s not scared of anything, even the Mama Clan thugs, he used to be in the army.

 

Techie likes listening to Matt talk. He has a deep baritone voice, and he’s very expressive, talking with his hands, his dark eyes shining when he gets enthusiastic. He laughs easily, showing his crooked teeth, his incisors a little crooked and pointy when his surprisingly full mouth opens…

 

Staring at Matt’s lips, Techie realises that he is drunk. He’s onto his third beer, feeling pleasantly buzzed and relaxed, and like his limbs are light and floaty, while Matt’s halfway through his fourth. Or is it his fifth? Techie should have maybe taken it slower, considering he can’t remember the last time he had alcohol, and is probably very sensitive to it. They’ve moved closer together as they spoke, knees almost touching.

 

 _Close enough to kiss_. Techie thinks. He’s never been kissed, although he really wants to be. He wants it all, is embarrassed that at about 28 years old he’s never touched or been touched by another person in any sort of affectionate, intimate way.

 

 _I’d let him,_ Techie thinks. _If he wanted to_. All worries about Matt forcing himself on Techie have vanished, replaced instead by a warm sort of curiosity. Matt would probably be a good partner. Generous. Giving…

 

Matt’s stopped talking now, and Techie realises he’s been staring too long at Matt’s mouth.

 

Fuck.

 

‘Sorry, I-- I was just. Um.’ Techie flounders for an excuse, but silences when Matt’s big warm hand slips onto his thigh. Matt leans in close again, eyelids heavy lidded behind big glasses, eyes flickering down to Techie’s mouth. He licks his lips, tip of his tongue peaking out for a moment. The movement makes Techie look back down at Matt’s mouth and before he knows it, they’re kissing.

 

He’s not sure who breached the final gap, but it doesn’t matter because Matt’s mouth is big and warm and wet and it feels very nice again Techie’s own lips. Techie’s not really sure how to move his lips, but Matt seems to know, probably has lots of experience. He seems to sort of suckle on Techie’s bottom lip, touch it briefly with his tongue. Techie tries to move in time too, but he thinks he might be a lot shitter at this than Matt.  

 

Matt tastes of beer and sugary coffee, and his hand has moved further up Techie’s thigh, and he has another at the back of his head in Techie’s hair. Techie’s pretty drunk, but he’s still embarrassed by his greasy, unwashed, tangled hair. He hates washing it because getting water and soap in his eyes fucks with his bionics, but it’s never been a problem before.

 

It doesn’t seem to dissuade Matt though, who makes a moan into Techie’s mouth, pulling Techie’s hair to tug him closer. Techie doesn’t know where to put his hands, so they fumble in the front of Matt’s shirt, too nervous to move them elsewhere or to touch skin.

 

Before he knows it, Matt’s pressing against him, lowering him onto his back with a firm hand. His knees end up around Matt’s hips, hands on Matt’s muscular back. Techie’s groin is pressed flush against his firm abdominals.

 

Matt’s mouth has moved from his lips, are now pressing hard and wet into Techie’s neck. He lingers over Techie’s clan tattoo, licking a long stripe over it, which Techie didn’t think would be erotic, but it so fucking is.

 

‘A free man,’ Matt whispers into his skin. Techie can’t do much more than whimper, too overwhelmed to speak. Matt’s fingers trace down Techie’s collarbones to his nipples, which he thumbs over. Techie feels them grow taught, press against the material of his shirt. He’s never touched himself there before when he masturbates, but it feels really good, sending tingles down to his already twitching cock.

 

‘Do you want to-- move to my bed?’ Matt murmurs. Techie nods, unable to cohesively express himself further. Matt lifts himself from Techie’s body, making Techie’s half mast erection very noticeable, pressed up against the fabric of his shorts. Techie tries to push himself up off the sofa, but falters. Matt wraps a strong hand around his skinny bicep and pulls him up, which is useful because Techie stumbles again once standing, but Matt stops him falling.

 

‘Are you-- are you drunk?’ Matt asks.

 

‘I-- I don’t know,’ Techie says, but it comes out much more slurred than he expects.

 

‘Fuck, I’m-- I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.’ Matt says, loosening his grip on Techie’s arm. ‘We should-- we should call it a night. Um… I’ll get you some blankets. The couch has no springs left so it should be soft enough to sleep on.’

 

Techie slumps back on the couch, suddenly feeling very tired. Matt goes into one of the two closed doors, comes back piled high with blankets, and two pillows. Techie’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

 

‘Here,’ he says, propping Techie’s head up to slip a pillow underneath him, tucking a blanket around him. Matt even lays a reassuring hand on Techie’s head, kneeling down next to him.

 

‘I’m sorry Techie, I should have realised that you were drunk. We-- we can talk about it in the morning.’

 

‘It was nice,’ murmurs Techie.

 

Matt pats his head again, which, even in his semi-inebriated state, makes Techie’s heart flutter. Matt moves down Techie’s body, he’s not sure what he’s doing, until he feels Matt grasp his feet, unlace his shoes and place them beside the couch. Techie tries to whisper a _thank you,_ but he’s not sure if it comes out as words.

 

‘There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you get hungry. And door on the right is the bathroom.’ Matt stands, quietly cleaning up the empty beer bottles, which make a _clang_ when they’re dropped in the rubbish bin. ‘Night, Techie,’ he whispers as he slips into his bedroom.

 

 _This is the best day of my life,_ Techie thinks, in his half-sleep daze. He’s been freed from a life of violence and slavery, he met a generous man who not only made him feel like a real person, but who also _kissed him,_ who _wanted_ him in a way Techie has never been wanted before, who is now letting him sleep on his old, soft couch.

 

Techie reaches down and unbuttons and unzips his shorts, pushing them down his thighs, over his knees, and off. They’re too uncomfortable to sleep in. He makes a mental note to wake early enough to put them back on before Matt wakes and sees Techie’s unattractive body in his holey briefs.

 

He thinks about touching himself, he’s still a bit aroused from kissing Matt, although his erection has waned. He cups himself through his briefs, but can’t seem to find the energy to coax his cock to interest. Matt could come out of his room at anytime, and he mightn’t be pleased to find Techie’s jerking himself all over his couch and blankets.

 

So instead, Techie rolls over, pulls the blanket up to his ears, and falls asleep.

 

**

 

He wakes in the night really needing to piss. Stumbling in the dark, he tries to remember which door Matt said was the bathroom… _on the right_ Techie thinks. He can hear soft snores coming from the other door, so he’s pretty sure this is the bathroom. He clicks on the light by the door. The bathroom is pretty small, but it manages to fit a bath, a basin, a shower, and a toilet, and it’s pretty neatly kept. Techie flushes the toilet, hoping the sound doesn’t wake Matt, and tries not to catch his reflection in the mirror as he rinses his hands.

 

He listens out again for Matt’s heavy breathing, hoping he’s still asleep. It seems Techie hasn’t woken him up. Techie falls back asleep on the couch in seconds.

 

**

 

Techie’s woken by the sound of the kettle whistling. The room is bright, and he has to squint a bit to get in focus. From his position tucked on the couch, he can see Matt’s tall figure in the kitchen, cooking something that smells delicious on his little stove. When he rounds the bench, Techie realises that Matt is not only shirtless, but is wearing only a pair of briefs, which leaves little to his imagination.

 

Techie notices at once with a lurch to his stomach just how _built_ and _sculptured_ Matt is. He’s shredded, taut muscle rippling beneath tight skin, dotted with black moles. Techie thinks Matt’s biceps must be about the diameter of his own thigh.

 

Matt mustn’t have actually found Techie attractive - he must have just kissed Techie last night because he was desperate and a bit drunk himself. Surely a man with a body like Matt’s doesn’t need to get action from a soft, weak thing like Techie.

 

Techie shifts to stretch a crick out of his neck, and Matt turns to face him. ‘You’re awake!’ He draws closer, Techie tries not to blush as those abs come into full view. Not to mention the outline in his briefs.

 

Matt kneels back down beside Techie’s head, as he had last night. ‘You’re feeling okay? Alcohol’s out of your system?’

 

Techie pushes himself up into a sitting position. He does feel fine, not ill, or woozy. ‘Yeah I’m fine. It’s just-- I don’t drink much.’

 

Matt smiles. ‘Yeah, I got that. Breakfast is ready. I hope you like scrambled eggs.’

 

When Matt turns back to the kitchen, Techie stands, and tries to pull his shorts back on without Matt noticing, managing to get them up to his thighs before realising they are backwards.

 

Matt notices his struggle and smiles. ‘You-- going alright there?’

 

‘Yep. Fine,’ says Techie. ‘Um-- can you, um?’ Techie stutters, feeling rude asking Matt to look away in his own home. But he is embarrassed by his soft, pale, pudgy thighs, especially compared to Matt’s curling, firm muscles.

 

‘Oh, yep, sorry,’ Matt turns away. ‘You could leave them off if you wanted,’ he calls cheekily over his shoulder.

 

Techie blushes, and can’t think of anything witty to say in return. He just hastily pulls his shorts off, before righting them, and quickly fastening them back up. He approaches the kitchen where Matt is pottering at the stove. He serves Techie a delicious breakfast of eggs, toast, and _real_ mushrooms. Fresh produce can be hard to come by in Mega City One, a lot of local farming areas were decimated by nuclear fallout. They’ve built huge, multi-story greenhouses, but 800 million people is still a lot of mouths. Most people have to take vitamin supplements instead. They sit to eat at Matt's rickety little table, and Matt tells Techie how his mom works in a mushroom farm in sector 8 and she brings him free mushrooms all the time.

 

Matt makes himself a cup of coffee, but offers Techie tea instead. It tastes much nicer than the coffee, not as bitter or rich.

 

Eventually, Matt broaches the topic of last night.

 

‘Listen, Techie, about… what happened last night. I’m really sorry, you’d had a really big day, and I didn’t realise you were so sensitive to alcohol, but I shouldn’t have… You know, I wasn’t-- thinking straight.’

 

‘No, it’s fine,’ Techie tries to smile weakly, but it comes out as more of a grimace. Of course Matt regrets kissing him, regrets trying to take him to bed. He’s realised in the light of day that Techie is not attractive, is awkward, and soft, and greasy-haired.

 

‘Look, I don’t want to impose anymore, you’ve done s-so much already, I-- I should go.’ Techie goes to stand from the little wobbly dining table, small enough that their knees had been touching while they ate.

 

‘No, wait! Techie!’ Matt reaches across, grabs Techie by the wrist, making him sit back in his seat. ‘I didn’t mean-- I don’t want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you. It’s not-- It’s not that I didn’t like it.’

 

Matt’s big ears are flushed now, and Techie realises what he’s trying to say. ‘You-- you liked it? You don’t regret, um, you know, I’m not… good looking or anything, and I was probably really shit because that was my first kiss. So. Like, I know all that stuff, you don’t have to just be nice because you pity me. Or something.’

 

‘I like the way you look.’ Matt says, in that intense manner of his. He realises he still has his hand grasped around Techie’s wrist, and he lets go.

 

Techie is stunned into silence, so Matt speaks again.

 

‘Look, I’ve got to go to work soon. I’ll lock the door, but you can still get out from inside. If you-- If you want to go, that’s fine, just like, don’t steal anything because literally everything here is worthless anyway. But um… You’re welcome to stay. In fact, I’d like you to.’

 

Matt stands from the table, goes back into his room. A few minutes later he emerges in a grey coverall, with a bright orange work vest, and a toolbox.

 

‘There’s pizza still in the fridge, you can have it for lunch. Um, I’ll be back around five.’

 

Techie nods, and Matt leaves.

 

Techie waits for at least an hour after Matt leaves before exploring the flat. He starts in Matt’s bedroom; the only room Techie hasn’t ventured yet. He feels a little like he’s betraying Matt’s kindness by snooping, but he also needs to make sure that there’s nothing creepy in Matt’s room like bloodstains before committing to staying.

 

It’s rather the same as the rest of the flat; small but neat, kind of dim. There’s a double bed in the centre of the room, made, but still slightly rumpled. A dresser, and a bed side table, a desk with a clunky old computer, a bookshelf stacked with books, magazines, and CDs. Techie looks at the titles on the spines; no weird fetish magazines. Matt seems more interested in computers, and video games. A few classic, battered novels from Old World authors.

 

Techie moves to the bed. He chucks a surreptitious glance to the door, before bringing Matt’s dark blue pillow to his face to smell. It smells like Techie remembers, when Matt’s long firm body pressed down against his own, and he kissed Techie until he was a gasping mess.

 

Techie puts the pillow back, moves to the bedside table. He opens the top drawer, finds nothing untoward; a few old trinkets, movie ticket stubs, receipts, a few more battered novels, old mobiles.

 

He opens the second drawer, and shuts it promptly with a _slam!_ Oh god. He feels the blood rush to his face. He opens the drawer again, slowly and carefully this time, prepared for what’s inside, and has a closer look inside. A box of tissues, a half empty bottle of lube, a few loose condoms packets and… a huge purple dildo.

 

Oh fuck. Techie’s never seen anything like it before, at least in real life, and not on a porn site. His mind flashes to dark, explicit places; Matt, on this bed right next to him with the dildo all slicked up, pressing it into himself, pulling off it before lowering himself back on with a groan, cock bobbing as he impaled himself, faster faster…

 

Techie feels himself start to get aroused at his train of thought. He shuts the drawer again, and bolts from the room, back to the lounge. He’s sure he won’t be able to look Matt in the eye when he gets home, and Matt will be able to tell instantly that he’s been snooping.

 

Techie stays in the lounge for the rest of the time, except for another visit to the bathroom. He pointedly doesn’t open any more drawers, but does try to splash some water under his arms and on the back of his neck. He doesn’t shower, the steam and run off water can fuck with his bionics, and Matt hasn’t given him a towel. So he knows he smells, and that his hair is disgusting, but he can’t help it.

 

He tries not to make any mess, so he nibbles the cold pizza Matt has left from a napkin while he watches some TV. Matt has a little old TV, but it’s better than anything Techie has ever owned before. There’s a few action movies on, so Techie switches between those, not really following, but enjoying the feeling of siting on a comfy couch, having nothing to do. No security feeds to monitor, or lying to judges while Mama presses her knife to his belly button.

 

He does debate leaving, because he feels like such a bother to Matt. He doesn’t want to just freeload off Matt, especially judging by the state Matt’s flat, he’s not rolling in spare money to take in bionic eyed ex-slavers.

 

But Matt said he wanted him to stay, and the prospect of getting to kiss Matt again, sober, is enough to sway Techie to stay, to glance impatiently at the clock every few minutes until five.

 

At ten to five, Techie’s starting to get shifty. At five past, he hears the click of a key in the door, and in walks Matt. He looks tired after a full day at work, but he smiles brightly when he sees Techie still sitting there on the couch.

 

Techie gives a small smile in return, happy that Matt seems so pleased to see him. Matt drops his toolbox on the eating table.

 

‘It’s nice to see you still here.’ Matt says, coming over to sit on the couch next to Techie. Matt smells vaguely of sweat, but it’s nice. Human.

 

‘How was work?’ Techie asks, shyly. God, they sound almost domestic.

 

Matt scrubs a hand through his hair, making the curls stand up. ‘Not bad. Long. My boss is a dickhead, but, you know, it pays. And the view is great from some of the towers. You were-- alright here?’

 

Techie nods, trying not to blush at the thought of what he found in Matt’s bedside.

 

‘Uh- yep fine. I just-- watched TV, and stuff.’

 

Matt smiles, puts a hand on his shoulder which makes Techie feel warm all over. ‘Your first day as a free man.’

 

Matt stands. ‘Well I need a shower. Wait-- do you-- sorry I didn’t even offer, what would my mom say?’ Matt smiles. ‘Do you want a shower? I’ll grab you a towel.’

 

Techie feels shame coil in his belly. Of course Matt has noticed he is disgusting and gross and--

 

‘I can’t, um, shower. The water, and the steam gets in my eyes and it just-- makes them hurt so much more. I’m sorry that I’m so-- gross and.’ Techie trails off.

 

‘Oh. No it’s fine, you’re not-- gross or whatever. I have a bath though, that you might be able to use. If you don’t make it too hot and steamy.’

 

Techie looks up at Matt. That does sound like a good idea.

 

‘Don’t you-- do you want to go first?’ Techie asks.

 

Matt shakes his head, curls bouncing. ‘Nah, you’re the guest of honour,’ he smiles. Those words from another person might have seemed like teasing, but Techie knows Matt is being genuine.

 

Matt brings him an old yellow towel from the cupboard.

 

‘You know how to-- how the bath works?’ Matt asks, finally understanding that Techie’s a little unknowing when it comes to some things.

 

‘Um. Yeah. I think so.’ Techie says, holding the towel to his chest, moving towards the bathroom.

 

‘Plug’s in the cupboard.’ Matt calls after him.

 

Techie shuts the door, pulls the lock across with a _click._ He patters over to the bath, places his towel on the tiles next to it. He grabs the rubber plug from the cupboard under the sink, before turning on the taps. They’re a bit stiff, but Techie manages to get them working. The water spurts out in stutters. He adds mostly cold water, and just a little bit of hot, to make the bath lukewarm. He doesn’t want to risk steaming up his eyes.

 

He strips his dirty old shirt and shorts off, briefs coming down too, toes off his socks, kicking them to the side, and lowers himself in the water. It feels so nice, the cool water against his skin. It’s not a huge tub, so Techie has to bend his knees up to fit. He grabs the nearest soap, a tall green bottle, and pours it onto his hand. It smells fruity and delicious, and he lathers up his underarms, and chest, down between his legs, behind his knees, his feet and between his toes. Fuck it feels so good to finally get properly clean, not just a haphazard wipe over his body with a wet sponge.

 

He leans back carefully, dunks his head under the water to get his hair wet, before grabbing the nearest thing labelled ‘shampoo’ and foaming it up in his hair. He scrubs his scalp as much as he can bear. He rinses it out by leaning back again. It’s still a tangled mess, but at least it’s a clean tangled mess. He doubts Matt owns a hairbrush.

 

He enjoys the cool soapy water for a bit longer, the steady drip of the tap into the water, watching the ripples span out towards the edge of the tub. He knows that Matt needs to have a go in the bathroom too, especially after working so hard today, and Techie doesn’t want to get in his way any longer, so he regrettably pulls himself from the water. He dries himself quickly with the thin towel, and pulls the plug, watching the soap bubbles swirl down the drain.

 

He turns back to get dressed, but he can’t stomach the thought of putting his dirty old clothes back on. Could he... maybe ask Matt to wash them? Would it be too much? He hates the thought of having to stay just in his towel while it happens, feeling so exposed, but asking to borrow clothes from Matt would be... too much of a bother. Matt might think he is too much trouble, throw him out…

 

Techie pulls the towel tight around his body, high under his arms to cover as much as possible, and peaks around the door. Matt’s in the kitchen chopping some sort of root vegetables, grey jumpsuit rolled down with the arms tied around his waist to reveal a white tee shirt.

 

‘Matt?’ Techie calls softly from around the door. Matt looks up, smiles.

 

‘Hey, that was quick! You didn’t need to hurry on my account.’

 

‘N-no it’s okay. Um. Could I-- Could you-- I mean, my clothes are really filthy and I was wondering… But it’s okay if you don’t have time…’

 

‘Oh, you want me to wash them! Yeah bring em’ over, machine’s here in the kitchen.’

 

Techie patters tentatively over to the kitchen, hair dripping down his back, keeping a tight grip on the edge of his towel, other hand holding his bundle of dirty clothes. He doesn’t want to give them to Matt, make him touch his grimy clothes, but Matt takes them happily from his hand, throws them in the washing machine under the kitchen counter, pours in some nice smelling powder, and turns it on.

 

Techie likes the continual hum of the machine. It’s like the noise the servers used to make back in his little security room.

 

Matt turns to Techie, takes in his towelled figure. Techie blushes, and his grip tightens on the corner of his towel.

 

‘Do you want some spare clothes?’ Matt asks. ‘You’re a bit smaller than me, but I might have something.’

 

‘You don’t have to-- I mean, I don’t want to-- bother you.’

 

Techie does think that the towel is too short to possibly bend over, or sit down in. He might show more than he wants if he tries. Plus, he’d have to hold it up for the next hour while his clothes are washed and dried.

 

‘No, it’s no bother.’ Matt says, moving towards his room. He leaves the door open, calling out to Techie as he rifles through his drawers. ‘So shorts and a tee shirt alright?’

 

 _Yes, very alright,_ thinks Techie. _Especially if they smell like you._ ‘Uh, yeah, that’s good!’

 

Matt returns to where Techie stands clutching his towel in the kitchen. He hands him a small pile of clothes. Techie takes them, holding them against his chest as Matt steps closer. And closer still, backing Techie against the bench.

 

‘Although,’ Matt smirks archly down at him. ‘There’s no need to get dressed on my account.’

 

Techie sucks in a breath, as Matt’s words send tingles straight to his cock. Matt’s long fingers find Techie’s chin, tilting him up for a slow kiss.

 

 _Yes,_ thinks Techie. _Yes, more, please._ Especially now he’s sober enough to notice everything about Matt, like the way his stubble scraps slightly on Techie’s chin, and how his big nose presses against Techie’s cheek. Techie opens his mouth slightly under Matt’s lips, trying to deepen the kiss, and Matt’s tongue touches against his lips.

 

Suddenly, Techie feels Matt’s fingers pulling at his towel, where his own fingers are clutched, holding it tightly in place under his arms. Matt’s fingers are insistent, tugging it from his hand.

 

‘What--?’ Techie whispers. ‘What are you--?’

 

‘Let go,’ replies Matt, kissing against the tight skin of Techie’s collarbone. ‘Let me see you.’

 

Techie can hardly believe he’s doing this, but he does. He let’s Matt loosen his fingers from his grip on his towel, and it drops to the floor in a puddle at his feet.

 

He’s naked. Totally bare, his long, loose, awkward  limbs and soft belly on display. Matt steps back slightly to survey, and Techie can feel a flush rising up his neck, as Matt’s warm eyes look over his body.

 

Matt steps forward again to kiss Techie, hands running over his arms and non-existent biceps, down to Techie’s wrists, and back up, before gliding over Techie’s damp skin to thumb at his nipples. It feels even better than last night, without Techie’s shirt in the way, and with his mind clear.

 

Techie whimpers a little as Matt’s fingers graze lower and lower, simultaneously nibbling at his neck. Techie’s starting to get embarrassingly hard, and he can’t tell if Matt reciprocates through the thick material of his coveralls. Matt’s fingers are getting dangerously close to Techie’s cock, caressing through his pubic hair. But before he does, he drops to his knees in a fluid movement, putting his face right at the height of Techie’s erection.

 

‘Matt-- w-what are you--? _OH FUCK_.’

 

Matt leans forward, wrapping his big lips around the red tip of Techie’s cock. Techie can hardly believe he’s getting his first blow job, and he’s already so close to coming. His hands fly to Matt’s curls, gripping on to steady himself. Matt’s mouth feels so fucking amazing, warm and wet, lips tight around his cock as he bobs his head. He uses one hand at the base of Techie’s cock, stroking while his mouth licks around the tip. Another hand comes to fondle Techie’s balls, something he does to himself when he masturbates.

 

‘Matt,’ Techie croaks out, ‘oh fuck, o-oh god.’ He can’t help the slight tilt of his hips, wanting to thrust into Matt’s mouth, but not wanting to hurt Matt. But Matt takes him deeper down his throat in a move that definitely seems practiced.

 

When Techie thinks he’s about to come, can feel his balls tense with the building pressure, Matt pulls off with an obscene sounding _pop_. Techie almost let’s out a sob, because he’s so desperate, _needs_ to come, but he stifles it by chewing on his lip. Matt waits a few seconds, before starting again, licking around the tip until Techie’s thighs start to shake, before pressing down again until Techie’s unruly ginger pubic hair is brushing his nose. He let’s out a moan around Techie’s cock, making his throat vibrate.

 

Techie can’t help the mental image that comes into his head, the thought of what he found today in Matt’s draw, of Matt, fucking himself with that huge purple dildo, panting and groaning as it breaches his tight hole, his enormously erect cock bouncing and dripping onto his bed sheets.

 

It’s enough to send Techie over the edge, his grip tightening in Matt’s hair to almost painful, as his cock twitches and spurts into Matt’s mouth. He let’s out a sob, unable to keep it in this time, moaning more as Matt’s mouth continues to suckle, pulling the last of the come from his dick.

 

Techie can hear his breath coming in gasps, his ears ringing. It’s almost an out of body experience as Matt licks the last of his come from his oversensitive cock. Matt takes his time, almost to the point of pain, before pulling away and pressing a hard kiss to Techie’s hip bone.

 

‘Fuck-- Techie, you taste so good.’ Matt moans into the skin at the top of his thigh.

 

Matt stands, using the bench Techie is leaning against as support. He brings his pink lips to Techie’s, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and forcing him to taste himself. It’s wrong, but it feels so good.

 

Techie’s sure now that Matt is hard in his coveralls, as he thrusts rhythmlessly against Techie’s belly. Matt’s hands go to his waist, undoing the sleeves tied behind his back, and unbuttoning the rest of his suit.

 

‘Touch me, please Techie,’ Matt begs, pulling his cock from his briefs, trousers pooling around his feet with Techie’s damp towel. Matt is huge, and red, and wet, and Techie does as he’s told, taking him in his hand, pumping up and down. Matt puts his hand over Techie’s, tightening his grip and quickening his pace.

 

Matt’s face is buried in Techie’s neck, so he not only hears Matt’s moans, but feels them vibrate through his chest. ‘Oh god, o-oh fuck Techie, I’m going to-- ah AH!’

 

Matt’s pressed so tightly against Techie he can’t see Matt coming, but he can feel the hot shoots of come paint his belly and thighs. Matt keens against him, wheezing out breaths near his ear.

 

‘Oh- oh god. Techie you’re so-- so-- fuck that was good.’ Matt moans, pulling back from Techie’s body. He bends down, grabs Techie’s discarded towel, and uses it to wipe off his come from Techie’s torso.

 

‘Sorry, I come lots,’ he says, taking care around Techie’s sensitive cock. Matt’s stepped out of his briefs and coverall completely now, naked from the waist down.

 

Techie gulps, trying to bring some moisture back into his mouth. ‘No, it’s fine, it’s-- fine.’

 

Matt pulls away. ‘I definitely need a shower now,’ he says, straightening his glasses which had come askew. ‘Can you throw the veggies in the pot when the water starts to boil? I’m making soup for dinner, I hope that’s okay.’

 

Techie nods.

 

What he wants is Matt to kiss him again, let him know that now that he’s got in Techie’s pants, he’s not just going to kick him out.

 

Matt does kiss him, just as softly and gently as their first kiss on the couch. Its warmth makes Techie think that maybe Matt does really like him, despite knowing him for less than 24 hours. The thought makes Techie’s stomach clench. He’s acted like a cheap whore, letting Matt do this sort of thing when they hardly know each other. Techie does want this, it’s so nice to _finally_ be the object of someone’s desire, and Matt’s the kindest, most generous person Techie’s ever met. It’s extra nice to be on the receiving end of _his_ desire.

 

But he does deserve to pay Matt back for his kindness. Like he said, this is all he has to offer. Maybe it will stop him throwing Techie out on his ass, if his ass was instead in Matt’s bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love comments, if you can spare the time.


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